Accidents Happen
by Monkeygirltoria
Summary: Finally, after the years of John living with Sherlock. John gets poisoned on accident, by Sherlock's experiment. *Slight Johnlock* My first time doing a story like this... Story, honestly better than summary. Please Read and Review.


**Hello! Thank you so much, for thinking about reading my story. I have to warn you now, if you are a sensitive Fangirl, who sometimes, can't stand the feels, I have warned you now...Again, thanks for reading. I'm letting you know now, that Mary is not part of John's life in this story. Don't get me wrong, I love Mary! It just doesn't seem the right setting. So right now, Sherlock has reunited with John after the fall. I will apologize in advance, for any typos, or grammar errors. I'm still working on that. Enjoy! **

**XXXXX-Monkeygirltoria **

* * *

"Sherlock, I need to take a shower. Since you have the kettle on, can you please make me a cup tea?"

John asked Sherlock, who obviously, didn't want to do any favors.

"I need to leave in a few minutes John." He replied back, looking up from what ever he was doing an experiment on.

"Sherlock please, you have it on, and I have to get ready today. I mean- You know what, fine. Do what ever you want to do." John hissed back. He ran into the bathroom, closing the door.

Sherlock sighed, not knowing what John was doing, as he tuned out his friend's arguing. He always tunes out John, which always leads to him talking to no one at some points. "Fine." He got up, made the cup, and poured the boiling water into it.

"It's next to my experiments John, so your tea is in the purple mug." He explained, as he got up, grabbed his coat, and mobile. "I'll be back in a few hours." He said, leaving the flat.

Twenty minutes later, John got out of the shower, and got dressed. He noticed the quietness throughout the flat. "Sherlock must have left already." He told himself, going into the kitchen. He saw that there was a few mugs on the counter. "Oh, he did make me tea." John said surprised. Instead of the purple mug, he grabbed a white one.

Without hesitating, he took a sip. It tasted sweet, and light. Just how he normally takes it. Though, it did have a different taste, unlike the Breakfast Tea they had in their own flat. John just assumed it was one of Mrs. Hudson's. As Sherlock always stole/borrowed her packs of tea.

Forty-five minutes later, John grabbed his bag for work. He took the cab to 's. Though 10 minutes into his shift, John started not to feel right. He started to get a headache, and slight vertigo. John just shook it off, thinking it was because of the little sleep he had the night before. But then he started to feel worse, as the time went on. He had the chills and a headache. Luckily, his shift was only four hours that day.

Once he got home, John threw his bag down, and just fell to the couch. "What's wrong with me?" He asked himself. "I felt fine this morning, and once I got to work, I felt terrible. I didn't eat anything bad. Just a cup of tea." He felt awful, truly awful. "Maybe all I need is a little bit of sleep." he said, closing his eyes, hoping this would pass.

* * *

"John! John! John, wake up!" Sherlock said, shaking his flatmate awake.

"I'm up! I'm up!" He said, surprised by his wake in slumber.

"What's wrong? Why were you throwing up?" Sherlock asked.

"Throwing up? Oh! Throwing up! Yes, I felt sick when I got back from work. That's why I'm sleeping."

John explained. He completely forgot about the pain, of throwing up a few hours ago. "How did you know I was throwing up?"

Sherlock ignored and looked at John, who had sweat caked in his hair, and his eyes all glossed up.

"Your running a fever, too." He deducted.

" I'm probably fine, just a flu." John said, closing his eyes once more.

Sherlock looked around, noticing the white mug out of place.

"John" he said slowly... "Which tea did you drink, the one that I gave you this morning?" He asked, with fear in his voice.

"I drank the one you gave me, in the white mug."

Sherlock's eyes widened. "John! We need to take you to the hospital! Oh god! It might be too late!" Sherlock was flailing around, looking ridiculous. Trying to get John off the couch, acting like a child.

"Sherlock!" John yelled. "Sherlock, calm down. I'm sure what ever I drank will be fine, and I'll be okay. Now, what is it? " John said calmly.

"Antifreeze" Sherlock responded, with fear in his eyes.

"Antifreeze" John said, saying it back to himself. Reality hitting back at him.

"Ok, Sherlock. We need to call the Emergency" John said, trying to keep his balance, getting up, off the couch.

"Right!" Sherlock said, still examining John. He started to get the feeling that he was in more shock, then John. He grabbed his phone, and dialed ' 999 ' as fast as he can.

"999, what's the emergency?" The speaker asked.

"We need an ambulance right now! 221b Baker Street! My friend drank some antifreeze, without knowing."

"Alright Sir, the paramedics are on their way now."

Sherlock hanged up, and looked back at John. He was still standing were he was before. Though he looked very pale, and he was holding onto the table for support. He tried to take a step toward Sherlock. But they both knew what was going to happen.

"Sher-" He blacked out. John started to fall towards the hard floor, as Sherlock ran to him.

"John! I got you!" He yelled, grabbing John in his arms. He just held John, staring at his limp body, hoping the EMT's would get here quick. Sherlock then started to hear the paramedics pulling up to the street curb, and footsteps up the stairs.

Sherlock then started to act like a terrified three year old. The EMT's can see the fear in his face.

"He just blacked out! He's having terrible flu like symptoms, and - and -and I just caught him and I didn't know what to do! I didn't know he was going to drink it!"

One of the three EMT's took John carefully out of Sherlock's arms. The second was lifting up the gurney, and the third was asking Sherlock questions, while doing typical procedure. He starting taking John's temperature, which was very high, at lease 102 degrees. He then started to take his blood pressure. While waiting, he started asking Sherlock questions.

"How long has he been in discomfort or pain?" , "How old is he?" , "Is he allergic to any medication?"

Sherlock explained that John has been like this since he got to work, which had been since nine in the morning. He told him everything he can possibly know about John. He was basically blabbering on, trying to keep himself out if shock.

"He's severely dehydrated. We need to connect him to an IV, once he gets in the ambulance." The third one said, as the other two, grabbed John and strapped him onto the gurney.

"Are you coming with us?" The first man asked. Sherlock couldn't ask for anything more.

" Yes. Yes I'll come with him." Sherlock followed behind him, forgetting his coat.

The 6 minute ride to the hospital for Sherlock, was dreadful. He sat right next to John. Eventually, after seeing him in the IV, pale, with lips turning blue, Sherlock grabbed John's hand. He had an excuse to check his pulse, but he really, he was scared, and wanted to hold onto John for as long as he can.

Thoughts kept running threw his head, going at lease 400mph. Terrible things, kept coming back to him. Things he knew, but tried to ignore.

'God, I wish I was stupid! Then I wouldn't have to understand what's wrong.'

'We may be too late'

'Why didn't I make sure John heard me about which tea was his?'

'You bloody idiot'

'This is all your fault!'

'Maybe things will turn around'

'How though? His vital signs are not doing well'

'His vital signs are low.'

'Is he going to wake up?'

' Will he be put in a coma?'

'I've seen something like that happen.'

'What will Doctors do?'

'So many symptoms'

'So many painful symptoms!'

'Oh god! What if he dies?!'

The last though, really hit him.

'If John dies, then I'll die!'

' No! Death is easy.'

' Living would just be existing, surviving.'

' Death would be like sleeping, forgetting'

' John is everything to me.'

' What would life be without him?'

' He's my life!'

' He can't die!'

' I love him'

' It can't be like this'

Before Sherlock knew it, the ambulance doors, went flying open, and John was starting to get taken away. Though Sherlock followed, still holding onto John's hand. They wheeled him into the ICU, with a Doctor all ready prepared to see him. One of the nurses, had an IV in hand, ready to give to John. Sherlock finally let go of John, and went by the door.

The second EMT, that wheeled John in, was giving the doctor, and a few nurses the information he was given. They all looked, shocked. Sherlock looked away, knowing this result was bad. The doctor was in focus now.

"Okay! I need a blood test, let's get the vital sings on constant watch, and we need some oxygen for Mr.-" He looked at John's chart.

"Mr. Watson!" He confirmed. Nurses stood there, waiting.

"COME ON! We need to find a proper antidote!" Everyone, finally started shuffling around.

Sherlock just watched, not being in the way. He was looking at everything, trying not to, as he noticed more and more signs.

"Hello there, I'm Miranda, are you part of Mr. Watson's family?" A nurse asked, looking at Sherlock's left hand, for any sign of a ring. He sighed,rolling his eyes.

"I'm just a friend, uh close friend if you say." Sherlock explained, still looking around the room.

"Okay, well, I rather say, that you may be more comfortable, outside by the nurses station. You... Seem rather stressed."

Sherlock looked at her, and them back at John, and then looked at her.

"He'll probably be asleep for a while. We're giving him antibiotics, that we hope will detox some of the poison. Plus, well. We have to see how he is once he wakes up."

The nurse acted her best to stay positive. She's seen these accidents before, and sadly knows how most of them end. Sherlock followed her by the nurses station, and gave him a cup of tea. Sherlock wasn't far from John's room, and can see his door. He kept seeing different nurses, with different materials, going back and forth in John's room.

'This is all your fault'

'Why were you such an arse-hole, not listening to John?'

'Why didn't you make sure he heard you?'

'Why did you even do that experiment?'

'Oh my god.. You bloody idiot!"

Sherlock decided to just go wait in John's room. It has been a good twenty minutes, and the more Sherlock stood away waiting, the more anxious he got.

He went over and slid John's door open, quietly. It was dark, with the only light coming from the nurses' desk on the table near by. With that, the heart monitor by John's bed, shined a dim glow. Of course, Sherlock could still see everything.

John was covered in sweat, with his lips blue. He had a tube in his nose for oxygen. Sherlock could tell that he had his stomach pumped, because the way John's lips were chapped, and the marks from tape on his upper lip. His body was limp, and his fingernails were blue. His whole skin was a slight color off. He had an IV on his upper right forearm, and tape and gauze on his left. They had to of done a blood test. Sherlock cringed. Even being a drug addict, he just though it was not right to have two needles in one day. Sherlock was just watching John. Hoping his blogger will be fine.

Minutes later, the same doctor came in, with a clip board in his hand.

" Hello, I'm Doctor Owens, I've been working with John the past hour, and I'm afraid I have bad news."

Sherlock swallowed, and prepared himself for the worst.

" Mr. John Watson, took a lot of antifreeze, and didn't get help soon enough. Once he came here, I'm afraid, it was already too late."

Sherlock looked at John, still listening.

" We tried to detox the poison as fast as we can, but it already took its toll. His kidneys, and most of his liver is damaged. This amount of antifreeze is killing him from the inside. I'm sorry to say, but with this much amount of poison consumed he will have no longer than 12 hours."

Sherlock just stood there, looking into the man. Dr. Owens put his hand on Sherlock's shoulder.

" We will make him comfortable, as much as we can. If you stay with him, you will start to see him loose his vision, he'll become delusional, he'll be weak, he'll have lack of speech, he'll be nauseous, he'll be fatigue, he may be stupor, and have rapid breathing. Please don't be alarmed.I'm terribly sorry. We tried everything."

With that he walked away, leaving Sherlock with his dying friend.

* * *

"Harry?" a quiet and scared, horse voice whispered.

Sherlock felt tears stinging his eyes. Though he had to hold them back. He had to be strong.

"No John, it's me, Sherlock."

"Sherlock?" He slurred, as he tried to sit him self up.

"Yes, it's me. How are you feeling?" Sherlock asked, coming closer to John, putting his hands on the railing of the bed. He pushed John gently back on his pillow, knowing he was dizzy.

" I feel...fuzzy." He stated, grabbing his head. He looked around, and finally noticed Sherlock standing right next to him. He looked at him, looked around again, and back at Sherlock. He did a weak smile, as he saw Sherlock trying to act as normal, but he knew it was time. He knew it was too late.

" Will you be all right?... After tonight?" John asked,still examining Sherlock's face.

Sherlock held in the tears, looking away. He quietly spoke the two words, John never thought he would say.

"I'm scared John"

John felt his heart snap. Sherlock was still looking away, shaking.

"Come here" John said, pulling down the railing on the bed.

Sherlock looked over, and scoffed, trying to cover up his ego.

"People might talk" he replied.

John signed, " Sherlock, I don't give a damn, I'm dying. They can just deal with it. That's even if they do talk."

John moved over, so Sherlock can sit. Sherlock sat down and looked at John, and John smiled back at him. Reality truly hit Sherlock, knowing he was never going to see that smile. In fact, everything he loved about John was going to be gone.

Tears started to fall onto Sherlock's cheeks. He couldn't hold them in any longer. John looked at him, and put his arms around Sherlock pulling him closer to him.

"It's okay Sherlock, your going to be fine. I promise."

"No, I'm not! Oh my god John, this is all my fault! I'm so sorry! I'm so sorry!" He cried quietly into John's chest. He tried to stop the tears, but he just couldn't.

" No, Sherlock you listen to me. This was not your fault. This could have happened at anytime. You hear me? Don't you bloody dare, say this is your fault. I won't rest in peace if you do, you know."

He looked at Sherlock, who was still crying softly.

"Shhh, it's okay. I'm okay. I'm not in much pain right now. We should be happy about that right? Here, let's get our minds of this topic, and talk about something else."

"About what?" Sherlock asked, still having his face buried in John's chest.

Well, since I had a knock out in the flat, my first thing that came to my mind, was our little adventure to Miss Irene Adler's house." He said laughing softly.

"Oh! When she drugged me?" Sherlock asked.

"God! That was one hell of visit. Plus, the fact that Lestrade has a video of that. Me, trying to get you off that floor. Man, he was laughing hard." John said, while playing with Sherlock's curly hair.

"Remember the Elephant?" Sherlock asked, snickering.

"Jesus Christ! Yes, that elephant, was very weird. I don't even know how someone can get an elephant in our flat. I'd have to say, the best part of that day, was seeing the look on your face. I have never seen you in such shock."

" I wasn't in shock, I was just thinking!" Sherlock argued, trying to hide the smirk on his face.

"Yah, sure you were." John pointed back.

For a good hour, Sherlock and John were talking about their past cases. They were both trying to remember the good times together, before it was too late. Most of them were silly, embarrassing times.

"I'm telling you now, I will never forget about our time at the Buckingham Palace." John said.

"You and that damn sheet. Being arse naked! Plus, the stolen ash try! I can't believe you still have that. Mrs. Hudson always ha-"

John stopped and looked right at the door. He grabbed Sherlock's arm, looking very disappointed, and anxious.

" No, please, you can't make him leave yet! He's my friend. He's only been here for a few hours! No! please! Sherlock! Don't go!"

Sherlock looked confused, seeing no one in the room. Then he remembered, about the delusions. The door wasn't even open. Though John still kept arguing, at the imaginary nurses, and was holding onto Sherlock. He sounded panicked, with his heart monitor racing.

"Please! He's my friend. Hell, he's family. I- I just want him to be with me." John said, with tears filling his eyes.

Sherlock got out of John's arms, and got off the bed, onto his feet. He grabbed John's cheeks, making him look into Sherlock's icy grey eyes.

"John, you're okay. They're not going to make me leave. Look at me, I promise no one is going to take me away. They're not even real. Look. At. Me."

John relaxed, and looked at Sherlock, out of his state. He had fear back into his eyes, knowing what the symptoms are.

"Sher-" Sherlock interrupted, grabbing John's hand, holding it gently.

"I won't abandon you, I promise." He whispered.

It was now 5:00 o'clock, and John is getting worse. He doesn't know if he's imagining things, or is seeing things for real. He is very tired, and won't move a muscle. He tried to stay awake, because he knew once he went to sleep, he wouldn't wake up, He knew it was time.

"Don't bury me in my uniform. Please." John whispered.

Sherlock looked up, and nodded.

John clucked quietly, "Bury me in all my favorite colors."

" Are you okay John?" Sherlock asked, watching the still doctor, in deep thought.

"Yah I'm okay, I mean, what do you think about before you die? I'm just trying to remember and memorize it all. All the happy things."

He looked at Sherlock, who was sitting in the chair, right next to him.

"You do realize, that most of those memories are you."

Sherlock didn't know what to say. He was speechless.

" I have to say the same about you too, John Watson."

* * *

John Watson died that Tuesday, April 8th, at 5:46 pm, due to antifreeze poisoning.

One his last few minutes of his life, he had lost his vision. Only able to see slight figures, but nothing else. His vital signs were getting slower, the more he waited. He was exhausted, and nauseous, and was barely able to breath. The only thing that kept him a few minutes longer, was the man sitting right next to him. Sherlock. At this point Sherlock was holding John's hand.

He could barley talk, only whispering.

"Sherlock, tell Harry, Mrs. Hudson, Lestrade, Molly, Mycroft, and even Anderson, that they were great. That I loved them, and that they made my life a happy one."

Sherlock nodded, still holding onto John.

"Yes I will John, they all loved you too."

He continued

"Now you, promise me. Promise me you will be okay. Please, I don't want to you just live in misery. Trust me, I've done it before, and it's awful. Promise me that you'll remember me, and just keep that happiness."

Sherlock had a lump in his throat, "I promise John."

"Please...I'll be okay.. The hardest part of this, is leaving you." John whispered, using practically all his last strength.

He squeezed Sherlock's hand, and closed his eyes.

A few moments later, the heart monitor flatlined, alarming annoyingly to get the nurses.

Sherlock just sat there, in a state of shock. The flatline blaring throughout the empty hospital room. He still held John's lifeless hand.

"John? John don't do this" he said to his dead friend. Tears started swelling up, making streams on his face.

"Please, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! Let's just go back to Baker Street, I'll fix it."

Sherlock heard scattering, and scurrying around him. Though, he still held John's hand, having a small piece of hope, that he would find a pulse. Minutes later, he felt a hand, slowly take his hand out of John's. He looked up, seeing nurses, removing John's body. Before he knew it, a nurse was just about to leave with John.

"Wait please!" Sherlock shouted.

He went up to the gurney, and took the sheet off of John's face. Looking at John, he finally seemed at peace. Thousands of thoughts were running through Sherlock's head. He finally found the words, he had wanted to say to his blogger.

"I love you" Sherlock whispered.

Of course, he got no response from the man. Though he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Miranda, she looked at Sherlock with deep, sad eyes.

"I'm sorry" she whispered, as she went off to the other nurse, with John.

Sherlock just stood there in the empty hospital room. A quiet room, which was soon filled with sobs.

* * *

**Well there you go! I hope the story wasn't that bad. I have never written a story with so much feels. I tried to make it dramatic, and sad. Of course, this will never be as good as "Alone on the Water" or "Twist and Shout", but it was fun trying. Thank you so much for reading. **Please Review. **I don't careif you're saying how bad this story was, or how much you loved it. All of those MCR fans, may have noticed a few lines from "Cancer". Sorry, but it's one of my favorite MCR songs. Again, thank you for reading, and I hope to write to you all again! **

**XXXXX-Monkeygirltoria**


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